Where UCOS Goes
by Eleantris
Summary: ...Chaos follows. Gerry attempts to rescue Sandra from Strickland's advances, a brawl breaks out, Esther tries to get Brian to dance, and someone thinks free drinks is a good idea. It's never a quiet night out with the UCOS team. - Slight Sandra/Gerry.
1. Part 1

_**Okay, so this is my first foray into New Tricks fan-fiction, so be gentle with me! :P I've been a *huge* fan of the show for years, such a massive fan in fact that I haven't dared to write anything for it, for fear of not doing the show and its wonderful characters justice. But, I had this idea and just couldn't let it go, so I thought I might as well give it a shot. :D It's just a bit of fun, really, with some slight Sandra/Gerry; it's probably just going to be a two-shot thing, and is set around now, sometime after the current series is set, I guess. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now and let you read. I hope you enjoy it, and please drop me a review at the end to tell me how I did! Or to tell me to never attempt writing for this fandom again... :P **_

_**X =D**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own New Tricks or its characters, but I'd be incredibly proud and smug if I did. :D **_

_**Where UCOS Goes...**_

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><p>If there was one phrase in the whole world most apt to offend, Sandra Pullman was pretty sure that 'Celebration of Policing Ball' was it. She hated these bloody things. What did that even mean anyway – 'Celebration of Policing Ball'? The Met was hated, in general, no matter what they did. No matter how hard they worked or how good a department's success rates were, the police could never do well enough in the eyes of the public they were trying so hard to protect. And it bloody pissed her off. What they were celebrating, she had no idea. Public opinion was about as low as it could possibly go, and most of the Met's officers were secretly kicking themselves for their handling of the riots that had rampaged through the city in recent weeks.<p>

'They're the uneducated offspring of uneducated offspring,' Jack had said between forkfuls of salad when it was all over the news one lunchtime. Gerry had agreed - 'Maybe they _should_ be blasted with water cannons and plastic bullets – shower 'em with them for round one, give the lot of 'em a warning and then come back for round two with the real metal.'

But that wasn't the only reason why Sandra hated police balls, or police functions of any kind. She hated police balls because a certain D.A.C always seemed to see them as an opportunity to try it on with her, and his advances were constantly pathetic to say the least. She blamed her mother. If Grace had never hinted at how she and Strickland would 'make a lovely couple' in an attempt to save her daughter's bacon and get rid of him, Sandra was sure the idea would have never crossed her boss' mind. And _this_, this was about as bad as it could possibly get.

As a rule, Sandra Pullman didn't dance. Ever. But currently, she was being held just a little too close for comfort in the arms of Deputy Assistant Commissioner Robert Strickland, and was trying her best to put some more distance between them without him noticing. How this had happened, she had no idea. One minute she was making polite small talk whilst shooting 'help me' looks at Jack, and the next he was coercing her into a dance, insisting that she couldn't possibly deny him that. Well she bloody well could, Sandra had thought, but a little too late, because she was already being led towards the dance-floor where others were dancing and an orchestra was playing. She had briefly wondered just how much functions like this impacted on the budget of departments like UCOS before an arm was around her waist and she found herself _dancing_ with Strickland. And she couldn't even look over to Jack and the others for help, because they were absolutely nowhere to be seen. She looked back at her boss, forced a strained looking smile and began speculating on how long it would be before she could slip away from him without appearing rude.

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><p>"Bloody hell, is that Sandra dancing with Strickland?" Gerry asked through a mouthful of canapé as he averted his baffled gaze to look at Jack, Brian and Esther.<p>

Esther had been glancing hopefully from the dance-floor to Brian ever since they had arrived, and too right, Gerry thought. He didn't bloody blame her for wanting a dance. Why the woman was still with him, he'd never fathom. If he couldn't keep hold of a wife, how was it that Brian could manage perfectly well?

Jack chuckled in response to his question and looked at Gerry over the rim of his glass. "I think you'll find that's Strickland dancing with Sandra, Gerry. She looked like she'd rather spend two weeks in solitary confinement with her mother than dance with him when he led her over there."

Gerry smirked, knocking back some more of his own drink as he looked back over to where Sandra was held uncomfortably in their D.A.C's arms, a barely restrained look of pain upon her face. "Can't blame 'im for trying though; she does scrub up well, don't'cha think?" He looked back at Jack.

"Very well," he said with a single nod, but didn't elaborate. He merely watched with the faintest of amused smirks on his face as Gerry looked back over in the Detective Super's direction, his eyes lingering there a few more seconds. And they were right. In a simple but flattering dark grey cocktail dress, her hair partly held up at the back, Sandra Pullman _did_ scrub up well. Unfortunately, Strickland seemed to think so too.

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><p>"I must say, you do look lovely tonight, Sandra," Strickland said, by way of what she was sure was supposed to be a very charming compliment. But he was just a little too close for comfort, and her skin was burning on her lower back where his right hand was currently resting. And it was most certainly <em>not<em> burning in a good way.

"Thank you, sir," she replied, and she couldn't help the clipped tone of her voice as she fought hard to let him know, without telling him outright, that she could never _ever_ think of him as anything more than her boss. And her prudish, ever so slightly stuck-up boss at that.

Hints, it seemed however, Robert Strickland didn't pick up easily. Instead of getting the message and backing off, he smiled and brought his right hand around to rest on the other side of her waist, so that his arm was encircling her. A taut look of tension came into Sandra's expression as she strained slightly back against his arm, trying to increase the ever decreasing gap between her and her boss, before he tipped her too far over the edge and she did something she'd regret. Like lamping him one.

"How's your mother these days, anyway? Do you see much of her?" He still hadn't noticed anything wrong. Sandra suppressed a heavy sigh, the forced smile returning to her face once again.

"I, err, she's fine. As well as can be expected, anyway. And no, not much, I'm quite busy with UCOS and so on... I get to see her from time to time." Now, she couldn't hide the clipped consonants, the poorly constructed sentences that signalled she was reaching the end of her tether.

"Well, of course," Strickland said, and smiled at her again. "She's a most charming lady, truly. You're very lucky to have her."

Sandra smiled, and anyone who knew her better would have recognised it as a sarcastic one – one she always saved for the most dry-humoured of situations. "Oh incredibly lucky, sir. I don't know what I'd do without her." The fact that he couldn't pick up on her sardonic tone of voice was yet more evidence to Sandra that Robert Strickland was categorically, absolutely and most horrifically _useless_ at 'pulling', as Gerry would call it.

They fell into what was for Sandra an extremely awkward silence as they turned again; her patience was wearing dangerously thin, and she glanced over, not for the first time, to see if she could catch a glimpse of Jack, Gerry, Brian or even Esther. Anyone who could possibly rescue her from what she was sure was the worst situation she had been stuck in for a long time. And that was counting the entire day she had had to spend working with only Gerry after Jack had taken a short holiday and Brian had fallen ill with some sort of twenty-four hour bug, annoyingly at the same time.

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><p>"Jesus, he's really not wanting to let 'er go, is he?" Gerry remarked, swallowing more of his pint in a fancy beer glass and raising his eyebrows at Strickland's newest move to pull their guv'nor closer.<p>

"No," Jack said, grimacing a little on Sandra's behalf as he looked over. "Do you think perhaps we should do something? It's not usually something I would say about Sandra, but right now she looks like a woman in need of rescuing." He gestured with his glass and looked meaningfully at Gerry.

"What, me?" he exclaimed, pointing his thumbs towards his own chest. "Nah, she'd kill me. She'd probably rather dance with Slime-ball Strickland over there any day than 'ave me rescue 'er." Looking around, he frowned and turned more to Esther. "Where's Brian gone?"

"Well we can't send Brian!" Jack exclaimed behind him, alarmed. "She needs rescuing, not boring to death."

Esther smiled, amused and not in the least offended. "He's refusing to dance with me, which is hardly a surprise, so I've told him the least he can do is fetch me another drink. He's gone to the bar." She gave the two of them a long-suffering look. "And they say romance is dead."

Chuckling, Gerry said, "Yeah, it is in Brian's world. Well 'ow about this. I'll go over there and rescue Sandra," he jabbed a thumb over in the direction of the dance-floor, "And then she can come back here and talk some sense into Brian, make 'im have a dance with you. How's that sound? God knows she'd rather be talking grumpy-guts round than gettin' up, close and personal with-"

"Slime-ball Strickland," Jack interjected, a smirk in his voice.

Gerry looked rather proud of his master-plan. And not only because it involved taking his guv'nor for a short turn about the floor first. "Exactly."

Esther smiled almost conspiratorially at the two of them and gave in. "Oh go on then, anything to stop Brian being such a misery. What's the worst that can happen?"

What the three of them hadn't stopped to think of was the fact that where Brian was involved, the answer to the question 'What's the worst that can happen?' could be very, very horrific indeed.

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><p><em><strong>So... *crosses fingers* I hope that was okay! I'll try to get the second part up soon (if you actually want more, of course), and I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! I tried really hard to keep everyone in character, so I'm sorry if anything's a bit OOC – please tell me if it is! Characterisation is always my biggest worry. :D Thank you for reading, and please review!<strong>_

_**X =D**_


	2. Part 2

_**Hello! Wow, thank you all so much for your reviews; I never expected such a nice response, so thank you! I'm a little later than planned with this second part, but I found myself busier than expected last week. The good news is that this isn't the last chapter! I've realised this needs a third part, as I couldn't fit everything into this part. Again, thank you for all your kind words; I hope you enjoy this second part!**_

_**X =D**_

_**Disclaimer – I don't own New Tricks, I'm not nearly awesome enough for that. :D **_

_**Where UCOS Goes... Part Two**_

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><p>Gerry found himself chuckling at the pained look on Sandra's face as he made his way through the throng of dancing couples towards her and Strickland. He knew she had taken ballroom lessons once, and he also knew better than anyone that she'd hated them, and only done it under instruction from her mother in the first place. He had caught her grumbling to herself one morning, furiously muttering about things like 'keep his bloody hands to himself' and 'poncy shirts and bloody ridiculous shoes'. She'd been wearing flats that day too, for a change. As he neared the not-so-happy couple, Gerry slicked on his most charming smile and tried to ignore how close Strickland was holding his Guv'nor. Reminding himself of the fact that Sandra would kill him and make sure the body was never found if he started a punch up on the dance-floor, he uncurled his fists, stepping up and intending to politely tap the D.A.C on the shoulder.<p>

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><p>They had bypassed 'uncomfortable' a long time ago. Now this, <em>this<em> was just bloody excruciating. One arm was still encircling Sandra's waist; the other held her hand too tightly, as though he thought she could slip away from him at any minute before he got a chance to say whatever the hell it was he wanted to say. It was safe to say she had never been more delighted to see Gerry's face, coming up behind Strickland. Her gaze met with Gerry's, and the meaning in them was clear. Over the years, Gerry had learnt the meaning behind every single one of her facial expressions by heart and this one – the pursed lips, restrained anger and tight look in her eyes – meant something along the lines of 'You took your bloody time.'

"Sandra," Strickland said, interrupting the awkward silence they had been dancing in for the last few minutes. "I didn't really ask you to dance with me so I could ask after your mother."

Sandra forced a smile, but it was brief, and the look in her eyes told Gerry it was the last thing she wanted to do. In fact, he was pretty sure she was just a few minutes away from lamping him one. Gerry had seen the effects of a pissed off Sandra's right hook, and it was something he would delight in seeing her boss on the receiving end of. She was glaring over Strickland's shoulder at him now, and Gerry knew she was wondering what he was waiting for. He smirked at her, and she understood.

_The bastard. _Sandra wasn't sure who she wanted to slap more, Strickland or Gerry. He was waiting for Strickland to finish, and the amusement in his smirk said he wasn't going back on that anytime soon. He wasn't just here to rescue her; he was here for the bloody show as well. Typical. Sandra restrained a heavy sigh and directed her gaze back to Strickland's hesitant expression.

"Truth is, Sandra..." The D.A.C's gaze flickered downwards out of embarrassment and whilst he was looking elsewhere, Sandra rolled her eyes disdainfully at Gerry over his shoulder and gave him her best 'hurry the fuck up' glare. Her eyes were brought back to her dance partner when he cleared his throat, nervously readjusting his grip on her hand. "Truth is... I've been waiting for a chance to get you alone for weeks; I have something I want to talk to you about."

Gerry had to hand it to her – for an intelligent woman, she did a remarkable job of playing stupid. "Sir, if this is about another offer of promotion, you already know what my answer is. I'm happy at UCOS."

"Oh yes, yes I know..." Strickland's usual upper class drawl was tinged with a slight sort of feverishness now, and Sandra felt his grip on her hand readjust again, his palms starting to clam up. _Oh for God's sakes, Gerry_, she hissed internally. _You've seen enough of the bloody show, now get rid of him! _But there was no such hope – Gerry was still hovering behind Strickland, a thoroughly smug and amused smirk resting easily on his face. _Bastard. _"Sandra," Strickland started again.

"Yes sir?" She continued to feign ignorance.

"I don't want to talk to you about a promotion, or about anything work related, actually..." Sandra bridled uncomfortably, but he didn't notice and continued. She was pretty sure Strickland wasn't actually paying attention to her reactions anymore; he was just focusing on trying to get his words out. How the hell was she going to handle this one?

"It's actually a bit more personal... I, ah, um... I was wondering if you might like to have dinner with me one evening."

The look of horror on Sandra's face increased, and so did the size of Gerry's smirk. Strickland's gaze was fixed uneasily on her face now, so she couldn't even shoot Gerry any more 'help me' glares over his shoulder. _Come on, Gerry_, she seethed to herself, _You've had your fun. _

"Oh," was all Sandra could say for the moment.

"Oh, no pressure or anything, Sandra," Strickland told her, and she had to fight hard to restrain a humourless bark of laughter. "I just thought I'd ask. I've been meaning to for weeks, but just never got the chance... I understand that you might have reservations, what with my being your senior officer, but I think we could work around that and - "

"Mind if I have a dance with the Guv'nor now, sir?" Gerry's cockney brawl interrupted the D.A.C's advances, and despite his deliberately bad timing, Sandra felt a horrible, sudden urge to kiss the life out of him.

"Oh, yes, certainly," Strickland said, turning his head to look towards Gerry before directing his gaze back at Sandra. But despite his words, he showed no desire to loosen his hold on her just yet. "We'll, ah, continue this conversation later? Think about it, at least."

Doing her best to nod and smile, Sandra suppressed a sigh of relief as he disentangled himself from her and beat a hasty retreat, cheeks burning ever so slightly. As Gerry took his place, maintaining a more respectable distance, placing one hand lightly on her waist and holding her hand loosely in his other one, Sandra took a moment to compose herself.

"What took you so _bloody_ long?" she hissed, eyes flashing. "Enjoying yourself whilst I squirmed, were you?

Gerry pretended to look hurt and sniffed indignantly. "Your gratitude is astounding, Guv. Besides, I came over 'ere to rescue you, the least I should be able to do is have a bit of fun in the process."

Sandra shook her head at him in disbelief and outrage. "I didn't need _rescuing_; I'm not a bloody damsel in distress, Gerry!"

He snorted. "Me an' Jack beg to differ. Besides, you looked pretty relieved when I intervened. You weren't gettin' rid of the slime-ball anytime soon on your own. In fact, I'd say you looked about ready to kiss me."

_Shit. He'd clocked that? _"Oh come off it, Gerry, your suave charms and powers of persuasion are hardly about to work on me," she snapped as they turned, the hand at her waist gently directing her.

Shrugging slightly as they turned again and somehow ended up a little closer to each other, Gerry smirked and glanced over to where he knew Jack and Esther were to see if Brian was back yet. "Oh stop worrying, Sandra, I'm not tryin' to bloody seduce you. Think you've 'ad enough of that for one night, don't you?"

Sandra blew a long tunnel of air out from between almost gritted teeth. "Just about. I mean, _dinner_? With him? The only time I'd ever have dinner with him is at one of these ridiculous functions." She shook her head, still exulting fury. Gerry watched the light glimmer in her hair as it slipped slightly from where it was partly held up at the back, a few strands slipping down to frame her face perfectly. She looked amazing. "Bloody hopeless ponce," she muttered viciously.

"What, me?"

"No, you idiot," she shot at him, faintly amused. "Strickland."

"Oh." Gerry's smirk turned into a grin. "That's my girl."

Her scathing scowl would have wiped the grin from anyone else's face, but not his. "I'm not anyone's girl. You learnt the hard way how not to call me sweetheart, Gerry. Do we have to repeat that lesson again?" She batted her eyelashes at him, false sweetness dripping from her smile.

"No, boss." They shared a grin then, Sandra flashing him one of the brief, devilish grins she only ever saved for special occasions.

"Now are you going to tell me why we're still dancing, or can we get to the bar so I can have another drink?"

"Aw, c'mon, Sandra!" Gerry exclaimed, playing the disappointed knight in shining armour. "I rescue you from Slime-ball Strickland over there, an' I don't even get a dance to say thank you?" His right hand slid subtly from her waist to her lower back, where he held her ever so slightly closer to him. "Besides, Brian's not back yet. We need you to get 'im to dance with Esther, he's being a right miserable sod again."

"Well that's nothing new," Sandra remarked, glancing over to where she could now see Jack and Esther talking. "Where's he gone?" She turned her head back to look at Gerry, and realised they'd somehow drawn closer. Their eyes collided and for a second, there was a strange sort of intensity in their shared gaze, before the connection was broken and she pushed the thought aside. But the skin on her lower back was burning where his hand was, and... She was horrified to realise it wasn't in the bad way it had been when Strickland had done exactly the same thing.

"He's gone to get another round of drinks in, should be back soon."

Sandra looked suddenly worried. "You sent Brian to the bar? _Alone_? Are you mad, Gerry?" She started to pull away from him, turning to head towards the bar. But Gerry didn't loosen his hold on her hand and pulled her back to him, resulting in what almost looked like some kind of planned spin as he pressed his hand to her lower back again and they continued turning to the music.

"Relax, Sandra," he told her. "Esther sent him, and he's _fine_. He's been clean again for years now, there's nothing to worry about. He'll be back with the drinks in a minute."

Not looking any more convinced, and now electrically aware of how she had ended up closer to Gerry than she had ever intended, Sandra gave a short sigh and pursed her lips. She glanced over towards the bar and clocked Strickland stood there, drink in hand, watching them closely. She looked back to Gerry, knowing he must have seen the D.A.C stood there too. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Now it was Gerry's turn to play ignorant. "Enjoyin' what?"

They turned again. "Making Strickland jealous."

His eyes widened in feigned surprise at her suggestion. "I can assure you, Sandra," he said smoothly, looking at her seriously. "I am not trying to do anything of the sort. Can't a man have a dance with his boss if she's a bird?"

Sandra rolled her eyes, but Gerry continued. "What are you suggesting, anyway?" His smile turned into a small, teasing smirk as Sandra started to wonder what the hell he was playing at. "That there's anything 'ere for Strickland to be jealous of?"

Her narrowed eyes and scathing look conveyed a different story to the weird sensation trickling down her spine at the intensity of his gaze, his joking smirk. She inwardly shook her head to herself. Maybe her mother was right, perhaps she needed a boyfriend. It certainly paid testimony to the fact that it had been a while if she was seriously considering _Gerry_, and reacting like this to _Gerry_. Bloody hell.

"You're a bastard, Gerry."

He knew she didn't mean it. "No, I'm a naughty boy, Sandra, not a bastard. There's a difference."

"Yeah, you've said." They were too close now for her to keep her hand on his shoulder, so she shifted slightly to slip it so it curled loosely around the back of his neck. "I'm struggling after eight years to see that difference."

His lips quirked into a sharp smile along with hers. "Oh, I'd 'ave thought that would be easy. The difference is, Sandra, that a bastard would have his hand on your arse by now."

She laughed sardonically, her head tilting backwards slightly. Her sparkling gaze came back to meet his. But before she could say anything in reply, the loud sound of smashing glass and a table hitting the floor sounded from behind them and they both jumped apart, turning to stare in the direction of the bar.

"Oh, bloody hell."

Letting out a slow, long-suffering sigh, Sandra shook her head, looking with disbelief at the sight of Brian tackling a suited officer that she vaguely recognised to the ground, a table disturbed nearby and smashed glass scattered across the floor. Both men were crying out in protest, and fists were already flailing.

As she took off, striding purposefully towards the brawl with Gerry hurrying behind her, Sandra let out another slow breath, trying to shake the memory of being held in Gerry's arms as they danced from her mind.

"Give me strength," she seethed to herself, and even she didn't know whether she was referring to the escalating fist fight in front of her, or the man hurrying along beside her.

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><p><em><strong>God, I'm worried now I've done some of the slight SandraGerry stuff... I hope everyone was still in character, please don't be afraid to tell me if they weren't! The third part should hopefully be up soon, thank you very much for reading, reviews make my day!**_

_**X =D**_


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